


Blame the Cherry Blossoms

by trispitas



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, I Don't Even Know, I'm Bad At Tagging, International Fanworks Day 2021, Post-Canon, Romance, Slow Romance, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:07:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28097424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trispitas/pseuds/trispitas
Summary: The weeks and months following Kengo's death were the busiest, messiest of Ichirou's life.He knew very well inheriting the Moriyamas kingdom wasn't going to be a walk in the park, but he didn't expect it to be so draining, so early.After all, he was only a young man craving to live his life, but he never expected, not in a million years, that it would start with a bloom in his chest, just like the cherry blossoms of Spring in Japan.(or even the bad guy has a heart)
Relationships: Ichirou Moriyama/Original Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	Blame the Cherry Blossoms

**Author's Note:**

> I know nothing about Japan, so if you do, and I did a terrible, awful, unforgivable mistake, tell me so I can change it ASAP and make this one-shot an awesome one :)

If Ichirou was asked in that very moment to describe himself in one word, he would choose _tired_. 

The last months of his life had been a total and complete mess. A mess he never thought will be his to handle. 

Indeed, he had grown up to be the heir of the Moriyama kingdom, taken apart from his family to learn the ways of a true crime lord, but there had been something ethereal to Kengo. A certain awe Ichirou professed to his father, that couldn’t let him think the man could–and would-actually die. 

So, in a few weeks, Ichirou went from looking from a certain distance how business was developed, to see his father get sick and die, bury him, deal with the killing of Nathan Wesninki, find a replacement for the work his gang did, make arrangements with a Stuart Hatford from the UK to spare his nephew’s life, meet the Wesninki kid himself to ensure the empire’s wellbeing, and cutting all the loose ends his brother Riko had left before him in his attempts to be worthy of the main branch of the family. All while keeping afloat the Moriyamas’ affairs. 

Ichirou dealt with everything cold-minded and with studied movements. He didn’t have time to spare on feelings, regrets, or second thoughts, because that was what he was taught to do, but that didn’t excuse him for feeling exhausted. 

Now, as if his problems of the past months hadn’t been enough, Ichirou was flying to Japan for a gathering with the Yakuza. The freaking main branch of the main branch of the Moriyamas. If this had anything to do with the Hatfords or the Wesninki kid and all the problems he had caused, Ichirou would be done for good. It was impossible for someone so tiny to cause so many troubles in so little time. 

Although, thinking better about it, maybe dealing with the Butcher and the Ravens' fallout wasn’t as bad as whatever it was ahead of him in Japan. 

Ichirou had come and gone to the country several times throughout his life. He had no happy memories of the place though. Everything had been business, secrets, training, study. No fun, no discoveries, no adventures. If he could only get himself a holiday... And that was the plan. 

If the reunion went smoothly as he hoped, then he had a clear agenda to stay around for a week, maybe two if he pushed it a little. Use his anonymity to glance around, meet places, and rest. Then, he would go back to New York and see what had been turned upside down in his absence. 

He was already counting down the seconds for his vacation to start. 

* * *

The headache was heinous. 

Ichirou was fluent in Japanese and used to speak it with his father constantly. As soon as he arrived in Japan, he had understood perfectly every single word he heard on the street, but having a tense five-hour meeting with men that made him look as powerless as a mouse on a dead alley, discussing boundaries, business, and further details of their various agreements, required Ichirou’s full attention on every single detail. 

If he had been in need of a holiday before, now it was a must. 

Despite his guards’ protests, he had dismissed every single person on his team in favor of taking a walk to forget everything. 

He turned off his phone, stuck his suit jacket on the back of the rental car, and walked away, ignoring the incredulous looks given by the men before him. In other circumstances, that would’ve been enough to get rid of them instantly, today, Ichirou didn’t care. He was only a twenty-five-year-old guy who was longing to have some time for himself. 

Selfish and irresponsible? For sure. Regardless, if the past months were only a taste for what was to come, he better got a clear head before making a big mistake on tomorrow’s meeting. Because damn him, it wasn’t going to last a day, but the full week he had planned to take for himself. 

To his good fortune, his employees didn’t dare to call him back or following him, so Ichirou wandered through Tokyo without paying attention to where his feet were leading him. Gradually, the busy city full of grey, black, adverts, and man in suits like Ichirou himself, turned into the greatest family gathering Ichirou had ever seen. 

People of all ages and nationalities were clumped in groups stretching all along the park Ichirou had stumbled to. Everyone seemed to have snacks, drinks, and company, except for him. Cameras were clicking all around, and some fingers were pointing upwards. Ichirou wondered if something there was going to happen, but then he noticed it was already happening. People were watching the cherry blossoms. 

Up where the cameras and fingers pointed, the sky was pink with flowers coming to life one after another in clouds of joy for the gazers. Ichirou’s businessman mind was racing to find a profit in such a show, but he stopped short, remembering this was his holiday, so instead of being _Lord Ichirou_ he allowed himself to get lost in the wonderful beauty before his eyes. 

“Looks like it’s your first time watching the Sakura.” 

The headache returned to Ichirou as he realized someone had spoken to him in Japanese. Ichirou turned around to see the source of the voice, forgetting completely that he wasn’t supposed to be talking with anybody. 

“It is indeed” He replied to the pretty woman beside him. She was about his age and height, but there was something in her that was sweeter than the scent from the flowers above. 

“You’re not from here?” The woman asked, clearly confused by Ichirou’s looks contrasted to his perfect accent. 

“I am. But I haven’t seen them before. Not like this.” 

Ichirou knew back in the US there were cherry blossoms too, but he never had time to appreciate them. In fact, he had never paid attention to see if around the Moriyamas ’ headquarters was something alike. 

“Well, you should take a seat before you fall. Come on. I know the perfect spot.” 

Ichirou followed the pretty lady along the park. He was completely out of place. Every single person seemed happy, relaxed. Kids were running around, eating ice-cream, playing with their siblings, returning to their mothers. Ichirou was never allowed to have that. He had believed it wasn’t necessary, as Kengo had said, but perhaps, it would’ve been... nice. 

The ten-minute walk led to a bench shadowed by a tree, with views of the river and a long line of Sakura trees that were admired from the other side by the families they had passed. Before getting there, the woman had suggested they bought cherry ice cones to enjoy better the view. It was most definitely worth it. 

Ichirou and the woman marveled at the flowers for the rest of the afternoon until the sun began to set, and she stood up. 

“I have to go.” 

Ichirou stood too. His legs had gone numb hours ago. He was noticing until then. The woman turned again, a light shade of pink spreading through her cheeks. “Will I see you tomorrow?” 

“You will.” 

The woman smiled when Ichirou grazed his fingers on her hand. “I’m Hanami.” 

“Ichirou.” 

Without another word, Hanami spun around and got out of view before Ichirou could process what had happened. 

A smile broke free. 

* * *

Next day’s meeting started at inhuman hours and lasted for a lifetime. Ichirou was certain that by the end of it if he wasn’t killed before, his hair would have gone completely gray from the time spent with the other men. 

The headache was as fierce as the day before, and Ichirou couldn’t rush fast enough out of the building to breathe again. 

“There was a call from...” 

“I don’t care.” Ichirou cut his assistant before having further details that would certainly bother him until he dealt with whatever matter was. 

“But Lord, if I may...” 

“You may not. Tell whoever called that I am not available and won’t be soon. Now, disappear.” Ichirou made a vague gesture to have his assistant moving away. “You too”. He said to the rest of his men. Ichirou had a date to attend. 

Hanami was already waiting on yesterday’s bench. She had a small lunchbox with her, where she kept two sandwiches. One for her, one for Ichirou. 

As they ate, Ichirou learned that Hanami was named after the blossoming they were watching. He heard how it had been her mother’s last wish before she passed. He nodded in fake understanding of her grief, and he also managed a tiny smile when Hanami started talking about the festival that would take place that weekend. 

The third day they met; Ichirou had made a stop before to be the one bringing snacks that time. He had no idea how casual or fancy to go, so he settled for picking a whole bunch of things from the nearest Seven Eleven and made Hanami laugh with his occurrence. She still led the talk, but from time to time, Hanami asked things to Ichirou, mostly about his life in America. 

By the fourth day, Ichirou had given Hanami the vaguest idea of his past and present. He was running the family business. His mother had died long ago. His father had died recently. His brother was killed shortly after. His uncle had flown far away from them after that. 

Hanami didn’t need to know all the truths behind his family’s apparent misfortune, regardless, genuine sadness was filling her eyes. “There is no need to feel bad about it, Hanami”. 

“But you are so young. No one has to endure so much in so little time.” She had no idea what was behind. 

That was Ichirou’s queue to leave Hanami behind. 

In other circumstances, this would’ve been the signal to end her before she put the pieces together before she could search him somehow. Instead, Ichirou took Hanami’s hand and lifted her chin so she could meet his gaze. “Believe me, Hanami, it’s okay. The past is gone, yet the present is here.” 

The hint of a smile replaced Hanami’s sadness, and she broke apart from the contact with a small shiver. “It’s getting late. See you tomorrow”. 

It was no longer a question, but a promise. 

*** 

Tomorrow arrived with the excruciating meeting that always preceded Ichirou’s encounter with Hanami. That day was supposed to be different. 

Ichirou had spent half of the dead-or-live meeting daydreaming of doing something special with Hanami. The night before, he had sent his assistant with a guard to investigate the best places around to have dinner. Ichirou had picked a restaurant that didn’t seem extremely expensive but appeared to be one of the best spots in the city to have a wonderful meal while watching the blooms. 

Ichirou styled his hair differently, used a hint of lotion, and on his way to their meeting point (a few minutes later because the reunion with his superiors had ended later), Ichirou discovered his palms could sweat. 

A nervous laugh escaped him. How could it be possible for him, Ichirou Moriyama, crime lord, head of the deadliest mafia in the US, to have sweating palms for a _woman_? He had shoot men more times than he could count with his fingers. He had ended his own brother without a flinch. He had learned about his mother’s “death” without shedding a single tear. He had arranged the deaths of dozens of people without second thoughts and now, he was feeling the ground behind him shake because of a date. An actual _date_. What was he? A lord or a toddler? 

It would’ve been perfect if Hanami had arrived. 

* * *

The next day, Ichirou felt _off_. There was no exhaustion, no headache after the last of the meetings. No hunger, no desire to keep along with his holidays. 

Nothing. 

He only felt a dull pain in his chest. 

Ichirou handled the thousand missing calls, instructed his assistant and his closest people back in America with actions to follow regarding their last updates, and despite the feeling of betrayal, Ichirou returned to their spot in the park. 

It was close to noon when a figure sat beside him on the bench. It was Hanami. Dressed in clothes that didn’t match the colorful dresses from the past days, and she was covering her eyes with sunglasses. 

“You came”. Her voice sounded broken. Like if she had been crying for days. 

“I did”. 

Neither spoke again. The trees didn’t look as pretty as they had the days before. Ichirou could feel Hanami holding her breath to avoid saying something else. It was dark when Hanami found her voice. 

“This shouldn’t have happened. We cannot meet again.” 

“But the festival-” In a blink, Ichirou felt like a teenager, dumb and heartbroken, holding on to meaningless promises made in the air. 

“Maybe I can meet you one last time. You were going back to America anyway. This was not meant to happen.” 

Hanami got up and spun on her heels to avoid further talk, but she wasn’t fast enough to avoid Ichirou’s gaze scan through her. There was the hint of a bruise on her temple. 

It was time for Ichirou to make his power work. 

* * *

It turned out that Hanami was a ghost. 

Ichirou had removed every stone and uncovered every hole he could, but there was no trace of her. No relations, no documents, not a single proof that she wasn’t a dream. A holiday dream . 

The dull feeling in Ichirou’s chest had come to stay. He needed answers desperately. He was used to knowing. To be the one making decisions. To held in his hands the fate of men, not to be the one whose fate was balancing on the bruise of a beautiful woman. 

There were only buried stories of men getting engaged with poor women, promising wealth to them and their families, only to deliver a hell in life for them. Modern-day geishas turned into harassed servants. That better not be Hanami’s case, because Ichirou was going to set all Japan on fire until he found the bastard. 

His only hope left, was to find her at the festival, so he went. 

The park had been turned into an ocean of people. It looked like half of the world was crumpled into the same space that Ichirou had come to know like the back of his hand. He had almost a picture-perfect memory, but he wasn’t naïve enough to fool himself believing Hanami would be there. Not among all those people, not with those bruises. Not ever with the secrets she was hiding. He searched faces anyway. 

Just out of habit from the past days, Ichirou managed to get to their place under the tree. Of course, there was no sign of Hanami. Only an incredible amount of people swarming to the festival. Ichirou caught a glance of his guards. He was in no mood for being babysat, so he allowed himself to be carried away by the people. 

In the middle of the waves of men and women and kids enjoying the festivity created around the beautiful trees, Ichirou caught the sweetness of something painfully familiar. The scent of his last afternoons so close, yet so far. 

He turned around in spite of some protests, to find Hanami marching away from him as fast as the people allowed her to. 

Ichirou wasn’t afraid of getting rude, so he elbowed his way towards Hanami and grabbed her arm. She was still wearing sunglasses. Her face was red and puffy. She had been crying. 

“Forgive me Ichirou. I can’t. I can’t. I have to go. I must go now”. 

“No,” Ichirou commanded with his lord voice. He secured his hold on Hanami’s arm, making sure he didn’t hurt her more. 

People were still walking as a hive. Sharing one mind, one goal, one feeling. Ichirou and Hanami were the iceberg parting the waters with their problems. Neither cared. 

Ichirou’s pulse almost failed him when he lowered Hanami’s glasses and revealed a nasty black eye and a cut in her nose. She looked more regretful than ashamed. 

“I should have told you before. I’m engaged. He’s not a bad man, but-” 

“But he dared to hurt you”. 

At that moment, a sudden rage towards Kengo filled Ichirou. If he was feeling his stomach plummeting to the ground only by a bruise. A bruise that had nothing to do with the things he had done, the things he had ordered, how could his father was able to find it in him to get his wife killed after having Riko? 

Maybe the main branch of the Moriyamas was as twisted as the Ravens were. Or even more. Changes will be made at his return. 

But right there, right now, with Hanami’s arm slipping through his fingers as she attempted to let go, Ichirou could only think how he could have spent his entire life without feeling a cherry blossom flowering inside his chest. 

Before Hanami was able to escape Ichirou forever, as the flowers would in a couple of days, the man closed the distance between the two of them, and pressed his lips against Hanami’s soft mouth. 

He tasted her sweetness, her kindness, her laugh, her smile, her sincere grief for his half-truths, her despair, her sadness, her sorrow. Ichirou tasted her love and knew he wasn’t going to let go. The Yakuza could have his family empire. He could spare every man's life, but there was no way he could wrap his mind around the idea of only one kiss from this woman. 

“Ichirou” Hanami broke their encounter with a sob. “I really can’t-” 

“You have nothing to fear, Hanami. Tell me his name, and he won’t touch you ever again”. 

Realization crossed Hanami’s face for the first time since they met, but there weren’t enough pieces in her memory to click. 

“Who are you, Ichirou?” 

“I will have plenty of time to tell you if you stay with me. And be sure no one, _I_ will never hurt you.” 

The second kiss showed Ichirou there were some sweet ways to die, but also made him certain that there won’t be any need for a holiday if he took the sunshine and calm of the Spring with him. 

In only a week, Ichirou had turned from a feared mafia leader, into a silly boy in love, and only the cherry blossoms were to blame. 

If Ichirou was asked in that very moment to describe himself in one word for the rest of his life, he would choose _happy_. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts? Feelings? Requests? Questions? Comment below and tell me what you want to read next :D
> 
> You can find drawings and more AFTG / TRC on [@trispitas](https://www.instagram.com/trispitas/) and [@doodlingstuff](https://doodlingstuff.tumblr.com/).  
> See you there!


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